They became aware of the waitress standing over them with book and pencil ready for their bill. “Perhaps your engagements are made for you. Foolish compliments were tossed about like confetti. She breathed into a cloth soaked in rose oil as Sebastian had prescribed, but the smell of roses mixed obscenely with the smell of death and decay, causing her to retch. “Tell me more about this Martin Chen. She posed herself before her mirror and surveyed herself with gravely thoughtful, gravely critical, and yet admiring eyes. “Forgive me,” he said. And now you must go back, take up your work and think all this over.
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